Heart's Journey
by Lady BD
Summary: After the battle, Padme finds her thoughts drawn to a lone Jedi warrior.


"My Queen?"

The words were softly spoken, nearly too soft for Padme to hear. It was even possible that her ears did not hear him at all. But her heart did. It was chilled not by Panaka's ultra-formal stance, or by Bibble's troubled gaze, but by Obi-Wan's whispered greeting.

Still garbed in her battle gear, Padme was hot and tired, her mind flooded with calculations both broad and minute. Suddenly none of it mattered. Her attention focused completely on the young man who came before her, his gazed locked on some distant point, fists clenched tightly at his side.

In the throne room her council stood around her, engaged in the business of reclaiming their world. "A few minutes, please." None protested, which again spoke volumes. Panaka himself escorted the Council from the room, then bowed deeply. Had Obi-Wan known the man better he would have understood the honor being paid him, warrior to warrior. As it was, the Jedi simply bowed back, as much as he was able, then stood at strict attention before the Queen.

The doors whispered shut, ensuring privacy. Even so Padme hesitated. She had spoken with this man hardly at all. That he came before her now, alone... she fought the surge of emotions within her, then drew a settling breath. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," she began, her tone soft, somehow comforting. "What news do you bring?"

The young Knight swallowed, his jaw clenched. He dared not look directly at her as he spoke. "Qui-Gon. My master. Is... slain. Both he and the Sith Lord lay dead not far from the hangar. "

His words were nearly physical in their impact, unbelievable. Jedi were famous for their calm control of any situation. Anakin had stated it simply but well on Tatooine - they seemed nearly indestructible. Especially Qui-Gon Jinn, for had he not already survived a direct attack by a Sith Lord? For a moment Padme's head swam with such thoughts, then once more she looked to Obi-Wan.

The battle he fought against his emotions was a terrible thing to watch. Padme was unaware of any code against emotion within the Jedi, but understood that Obi-Wan's personal honor, if nothing else, demanded dignity.

"We have lost a powerful ally and a great hero," she began formally. "Naboo mourns your loss, Obi-Wan Kenobi." It was not enough. On impulse she reached out to gently touch his hand. "I mourn your loss. My debt to your master could not be repaid, but moreso, I feel I have lost a friend, though I barely knew him."

Her words, or perhaps her actions startled him, for he finally looked at her, truly met her eyes for the first time since entering the room. Gaze bright with unshed tears, he nonetheless managed a small smile. "He was known for that. He befriended many on his travels, while I have journeyed with him to those same places yet barely know a soul."

His confession caused her to draw a breath, then hold it. Mirrored within his eyes Padme saw such loneliness, such despair. The burden on his heart was born quietly, held by that fragile dignity he wore like a cloak. "How may I assist you?"

When her hand had actually become entwined with his she was not sure. His grip tightened for the briefest of moments, then with reluctance he moved away, clearing his throat. "I must retrieve... the body. A gurney of some sort, please."

"Do you wish an escort?" She stopped short of volunteering to accompany him, knowing it would be impossible for many reasons.

He nearly declined, then nodded, once. "Perhaps it is for the best. They would know better where to go." He cleared his throat again, and she noticed that his fists were clenched once more. "The funeral... perhaps it should be here?"

"Of course. Do you wish any particular custom followed?"

Obi-Wan shook his head at once, causing his braid to dance on his chest. "No, please. He was a simple man. A simple ceremony, I think, would be appropriate. A... pyre, please."

The catch in his voice closed her own throat against higher emotions. "I will make the arrangements." Unsure of what to say next, she finally walked behind him once more. Gently she placed her hand on his back, feeling him shudder under her touch. "I'm truly sorry, Obi-Wan."

His eyes closed, he turned slightly, reaching for her hand once more. He simply held it for a moment, then let her go, backing away a few steps. "My Queen," his voice was thick with emotions, "I must go. There is much to do."

She nodded at once. "Of course. If I may be of assistance..."

There was nothing more to be said. He bowed again, very formal, then took his leave. It was not until after he had gone that she came to wonder when he had begun to use her formal title.

The events of the next day were predictably hectic. The Trade Federation still remained, and had to be dealt with swiftly. Planning a celebration of the victory in addition was trial enough. But to include before that the funeral of a Jedi - that required all her skill and concentration. Half the senate applied for permission to attend the funeral, while the other half lodged a formal protest against the criminal behavior of the Queen of Naboo. The Jedi Council, of course, immediately traveled to Naboo not only to mourn one of their fallen comrades, but also as a strong show of support for the events surrounding the end of the Trade Federation blockade. The recognition of the Gungans as formal allies, something which a month previous would have seemed impossible to Padme, was the least complicated item on the days agenda. There were wheels within wheels encompassing every gesture it seemed.

The funeral, the procession of the following day, all was a blur in her mind. Her people grieved and rejoiced with equal fervor until all melded into a single note of extreme emotion. Obi-Wan alone remained untouched by it all. Padme noted the cool detachment which he adopted, an emotional force so strong that even little Anakin tried to imitate it.

Then it was over. In a rather numbed state of shock, the inhabitants of Naboo watched the sun rise the following day and realized that life did, indeed, go on. They began the tedious business of remembering how to live a life without constant crisis.

One by one the officials and delegates from a hundred systems bade farewell to Amidala, the Queen of Naboo, then returned to their own lives knowing that they had met a future force to be reckoned with. The Jedi too took their leave after renewing a pledge of peace and strength between themselves and the people of Naboo - a bond tested by war and strengthened by blood.

Then there was one. As before, he came without fanfare, and he came without the boy. That was good. Padme had said goodbye to Anakin hours before, troubled by how dispirited the boy had seemed. Another meeting would have only emphasized that they were to be parted, perhaps for a number of years. Since their meeting Padme had become fond of young Anakin and wished him well. She disliked seeing him so burdened.

But it was of his master that her thoughts returned to more often than not. And it was he who stood before her now. The beauty of the setting sun glittering on the river always brought peace. So it seemed appropriate to meet the young Jedi in her chambers, where every window boasted a breathtaking view of the fast moving water.

When he entered she stood, her long violet gown swirling around her. She was dressed for Peace, the outfit simple, her head bare. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. Thank you for coming."

The Jedi smiled slightly as he entered the room, bowing just inside the door. "My Queen. I could not leave without saying good bye."

He had done it again. Though he was not a citizen, nor did he owe her any formal allegiance, he nonetheless had adopted her title. She wondered at it, but did not ask.

"Where do you travel to?"

" Coruscant. More specifically, the Temple."

"To begin Anakin's training?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan shook his head. "He's an unusual boy. But Qui-Gon believed in him."

She frowned, meeting his eyes. "Is that enough to make a Jedi?"

He hesitated, his voice much softer in his reply. "It must be."

For just a moment his heart opened, and she saw within his eyes the terrible doubt, the vast loneliness which engulfed him. It was natural to reach once more for his hand, to draw it to her. Somehow she had to communicate her understanding, that she knew too well what it was to be alone. There could be no words between them, both instinctively understood that. The gesture would have to be enough.

After a moment she released him. He hesitated, then slowly lowered his hand to his side. Her voice quavered slightly, the pitch wholly unlike her usual controlled tone.

"Good fortune speed your journey, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The blue eyes met and held hers just a moment longer. "Thank you, my Queen." He bowed, his stance rigid and formal, his emotions held tightly in check. Then he turned and was gone, the great door booming gently closed behind him.

The corridor beyond echoed with the sounds of his boots as she bowed her head, then finally rested her hand against the flat of the door, eyes closed. Though she was alone she dared utter the phrase only in the softest whisper, sending it after him as a final prayer.

"Know that my heart goes with you."

End


End file.
